You know how we always get told, ‘everything happens for a reason’, ‘God doesn’t make mistakes’, ‘Gods plans shouldn’t be questioned’, etc. However, its so hard even with having a great faith to stay true to that and not wonder why and question so many things. I’ve been here for over 3 years. Quite often wondering and questioning ‘why me?’. Why did I have a stroke 3 weeks after my miracle baby was born and almost die and have my life shattered and ripped out from under me at 27 years old? Tell me, what is a good plan that includes that? How could that not have been a mistake? I was an okay person, I did my civic duties, lived a generally Christian and moral life, didn’t intentionally cause harm to anyone. So, why me?

I’ve said it before though, and now I’ll say it again but I also finally sort of understand. Why not me? I was in church this morning and the homily really hit home and finally made me see the greater picture. We were told about a woman who lived her life feeling sad and alone and depressed, and overcome in her own grief – she jumped out of a 5th floor window and tried to take her life. She was unsuccessful. She was left paralyzed, but alive. She said she had a dream, and in this dream Jesus appeared to her; his message to her was this, ‘you had a healthy body but a crippled soul, now you have a crippled body but will have a healthy soul’. What did I take from this and why am I saying I finally understand my situation?

I, too, was depressed. I wasn’t depressed enough to try to take my life. I may have seemed generally happy, but I think much like most of the general public, I was muddling through my life with a ‘crippled soul’ always searching for something more. Always thinking something could get better and failing to fully appreciate all that I really did have. Then God gave me a wake up call. He made me wake up and realize what I stood to lose, as I woke up partially paralyzed, unable to talk or eat, unable to hold my baby. My recovery has surpassed everyone’s expectations and been called miraculous. My doctors have been unable to definitively find an explanation for my stroke. An otherwise healthy 27 year old having a massive brainstem ischemic stroke, 3 weeks post a reasonably healthy pregnancy and delivery.

I now believe that I too, was given a ‘crippled body’ in exchange for a chance to make myself have a ‘healthy soul’. Where most people would have used this health decline as an excuse to draw further away from church and to lose faith in God; I actually did the opposite. I’ve been given a chance to give back. To help improve the lives of others. A chance to live my life in service to Him. I think that’s a pretty good plan and reason for something bad to happen.

Jeremiah 29:11

11 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

Remember, nobody is feeding you a line to make you feel better when they tell you God doesn’t make mistakes, or he has a plan. My stroke wasn’t an accident. I have to make the best of it.

Let’s get real for a minute. Without Faith, I’d be lost. As a mother, as a woman, as a stroke survivor – I’d be lost. I’ve often said that I refuse to lose my faith and hope because if I begin to cry about all of the bad, unfair or difficult challenges I have and continue to face, I’ll never stop crying. When things get tough. Have some Faith. Someone, Something greater then you, is at work and has a plan.

Jeremiah 29:11 is my favorite verse and one I repeat to myself every single day. You should too.

I think I knew going into motherhood that I would hear things like ‘mean mommy’ ‘I don’t like you’ and even ‘I hate you’, but that doesn’t mean my heart was prepared for the first time it happened. And I definitely didn’t expect both kids to basically pull it in the same week for the first time. However, its been a couple days and I’ve regrouped.

K came first. She got mad because I told her off for jumping around upstairs. Next thing I know I heard her sobbing that she didn’t feel like she had a mom anymore and that she was always getting in trouble for things she didn’t do. Blah blah blah. Im fully aware days later that the first thing I should have thought, was shes a 9 year old DRAMA QUEEN. Nonetheless, this stung. I love the girls more than life, and I do just about everything in my power for them to know that – as most moms do. And I do so with even more difficulty because more often than not I do not feel well, have no energy, and am an emotional bundle of nerves because I have emotional lability. The girls aren’t old enough to understand this yet, K tries, but just like the rest of the world easily forgets because I ‘look healthy’.

A few days later, all I want to do is make my bed and put away some laundry. This ordinary task unfortunately takes me an extra adult and an hour or so to complete. My youngest says she wants to color, so I gave her a book and crayons and asked her to sit in the doorway. 5 minutes later, ‘I done, I wanna go downstairs’. Apparently her world came crashing down in the moments after when I told her I wasn’t finished and she would have to wait a little longer.. The world ended. Total meltdown began. During which she asks me ‘mommy you mad at me?!’ I told her no but must have at some point told her she was making me upset acting this way. This then lead into an hour of at times frantic sobs saying ‘I don’t like mommy!!!’ And even when my mom or her older sister tried calming her and telling her it wasn’t nice and she was hurting mommy’s feelings, she stood by it.

I was a blubbering mess. I sat downstairs and sobbed with K trying to make me feel better. Desperately calling my best friend and blubbering into the phone about this new awful development. Surely I’ve broken my child.

I didn’t. She finally came downstairs, climbed in my lap, kissed my head and smiled like it hadn’t happened.

C told her grandpa that night that mommy was yelling and I was crying and I didn’t like it and mommy was mad at me so I didn’t like her. 3 year old logic right there. So at the end of the day I realize, I didn’t break my kid. Either of them. They both got over it. C essentially forgot about it.

There will be days when I’m an evil seawitch, and days when I’m their favorite person. I’m sure more of these days are in my future. Everyone I’ve talked to has said ‘it’s normal’ or ‘she doesn’t understand what she needs to say’, and my favorite, ‘it hurts you more than it hurts them, just don’t let them see that’. So much easier said than done.

But the good news – I’m over it. Another week of motherhood has been conquered, I didn’t do anything to ruin them (yet, lol). I learned from it and will hopefully be able to handle it the inevitable next time. They don’t hate us. They simply don’t like how they feel in that moment. And since we are always here and the constant in life, we are the ones that get the brunt of it.

So I’ll end this post with a bit of wisdom – if your children don’t like you from time to time, keep up the good work.

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